The Knight of the Bloody Gate
by SimplyTully
Summary: Last Past!Blackfish story, chronologically. Brynden Tully and Maege Mormont reflect on the events of Robert's Rebellion. Someone faces the loss of old friends. Some slight Mormont profanity.


The War of the Usurper was over. Or so they said, though Maege Mormont knew better. _No war ever ends_.

The lady of Bear Island rode up the path that led to the Vale. By her side Lord Arryn gazed at the distant peak of the Eyrie, shining in the sky. Their armies trundled wearily behind them. It was a lovely place, but fraught with sad legends, and the saddest might be taking shape right there and then. Lord Arryn and his new wife Lysa Tully had no love for each other.

The Knight of the Bloody Gate rode towards them, but there was no threat in his stance. His visor was up and he was grinning, blue eyes shining with joy. "My Lord Arryn! The rumours were true. It's good to see you safe. And Lady Maege, such an unexpected pleasure."

"I'm happy to see you too, Ser Brynden," the Lord of the Vale said, with no happiness whatsoever. "Is my wife well?"

Brynden Tully's eyes flickered towards the Eyrie. "My niece Lysa is very well, my lord. She..." He hesitated.

"She'd rather I had not returned. Don't shame yourself with false courtesy, Blackfish. But what's this about rumours? Didn't you get my ravens?"

"I've received the news of King Aerys' death. And I've heard that his son Rhaegar was slain by Robert Baratheon. Nothing more. I don't even know who is king now."

"Robert is, of course," Arryn said, and Maege thought she saw a glint of relief in Brynden's eyes. He clearly did not wish for his favourite niece Catelyn Stark to bear the weight of a crown.

"And Hoster?..."

"Your brother was wounded, but now he is safe and heading home to Riverrun."

Maege noticed the play of emotions on Brynden Tully's countenance. He was glad, but he was remembering familiar Tully faces and wondering how many of them would not be going home. Arryn had not kept a list of casualties. At least Maege had seen all her dead and mourned them, one by one.

"What about Ned Stark?"

"On his way to Winterfell with the corpse of his sister Lyanna." Brynden frowned, shocked, but Arryn did not give him time to make his condolences. "Lady Mormont escorted me home in Ned's stead."

Maege saw something else in Brynden's courteous nod. As happy as he was to see her and share food and drink and bawdy stories, he regretted that Hoster was not there. Same old Blackfish. For all his grudges and his pride, he would never cease hoping that Hoster would someday relent and make peace.

"And now it's my time to turn North, Lord Arryn," Maege said. She could not wait to be free of the boring old fart. "Go to your wife. My soldiers and I will get refreshed and start again, while the day is young. I can't wait to see my husband, back from fishing, and make another baby girl."

Brynden burst into laughter. Arryn nodded coldly. "Thank you, Lady Maege," he said, brushing her forearm in a gesture of farewell. He motioned to his lieutenant, and the Vale army ponderously began to separate from the Bear Island army.

As the soldiers and knights filed beside them, Maege rode up to Brynden. "Anything to drink in this fucking place, Blackfish?"

Brynden grinned. "Your folks can slake their thirst at the torrent, Mormont. I have my personal stash of cool mead, if you'd rather."

"Cool mead and hot men, what more to ask?" Maege dismounted and slammed her hand on his back, while he jokingly grabbed the nape of her bear-shaped helm. She gave her own orders, then followed him.

They walked to a small hut, an adjunct of the great Bloody Gate tower. Brynden took off his helm, and his ponytail fell down his back. Many a girl envied that gorgeous Tully red, equal only to Catelyn's, but now a streak of gray started above his left eye and ran through his hair. Maege felt a jolt. She was not much younger than the Blackfish. Brynden's graying hair was a reminder that hers was peppered with silver.

Brynden laid his helm on a bench beside the door of the hut and went in, descending some steps. A streamlet tinkled around the tower. Maege set her own helm beside his and sat on the warm stone, closing her eyes under the fat sinking sun.

She had almost fallen asleep when the Blackfish came out with a clay jar. "You ordered cool mead, my lady? But I require a price. Tell me a story. Tell me what happened."

He sat beside her, and they both took a swig before Maege felt like talking. "You've heard Arryn. The Targaryens are gone. Listen, Bryn... I got into this for Ned's sake, he's my liege lord, but it was a dirty affair. I understand why you stayed here, guarding Lysa. Now that Robert sits on the throne, nobody can persuade me he did it all to avenge Lyanna."

"But how did King Aerys die?"

Maege laughed bitterly. "Jaime Lannister murdered him on the steps of the Iron Throne."

Brynden was stunned. "A white knight did this?..."

"I've told you. A dirty affair."

Brynden cocked his head, a gesture Maege remembered fondly from many past battles. "What about the rest of the Kingsguard?"

Maege took another swill. The mead was strong and heartening, flavoured with sweet herbs. "Selmy fought alongside Rhaegar. Last I heard of him, he was grievously wounded, but in no danger of his life. Robert has pardoned him. You know the oaths they take... they swear to serve the king. Whoever he is."

"I do know," Brynden said softly. Something had thawed inside him. "And the others?"

"Two more were with Rhaegar, I know nothing of them. Three were guarding Lyanna, and those were all killed by Ned Stark and his men."

"Which three?..."

Maege realized how tired and battered she was, in body and mind, to neglect such a detail. But then again, she had never met those famed knights in person. "Hightower, Whent and Dayne."

Brynden tipped his head back against the sunlit brick wall and closed his eyes. Maege knew he was familiar with many of the Kingsguard. "I'm sorry, Bryn."

The Blackfish opened his eyes and looked at the soldiers drinking at the stream. He had barely touched the jar of mead. "And Lyanna?"

Maege lowered her voice. "I'm a woman, I feel such things. No matter what they tell you - she died in childbirth. Arthur Dayne and the others WERE guarding a Targaryen."

Brynden looked at her with eyes shining with tears, but there was also relief in them. "Rhaegar and Lyanna's child? By all the gods, Mormont..."

"You'll never hear this from ravens, but Ned Stark is taking a newborn baby to Winterfell. He says it's his own bastard."

Brynden stared. "Catelyn will think -"

"That's between Ned and Catelyn. I've told you what I feel." Maege put a hand on her belly.

Brynden nodded. "Thanks, Maege. That's all I needed."

He lifted his shoulders as though they weighed a ton, then let them fall. He pulled a sharp knife from his belt. Before Maege could react, he grabbed his ponytail and cut it away, leather thong and all.

Maege was horrified. "Your hair..."

Brynden dropped the wavy hanks of hair into the streamlet. The swift current carried them out of sight. He ran his hands over his disheveled head and smiled at her through unshed tears. "I must look rather stupid like this. Would you please even it out, my lady?..."

THE END


End file.
